I was messing around with words,
For people once messed with my mind.
Words carve truth
And sometimes are part of foul play.
Sometimes words are used in games,
Sometimes words carry wisdom
In disguise.
And all in all, words are human
They are flawed and they are metaphors.
I had a question
Of all the questions I have.
I baked it into simple bricks
To build symbolic sculptures with it.
But what use is a question
If it in itself is indecipherable,
Answers need a structured path to unwind.
I was looking for an answer
But I wasn't expecting one.
I feel most questions
Are there
Because they have indeed
No answers after all.
These are our constructed truths,
I used to say
When he used to accuse me of lying.
I always have a dark, dark humor.
But I have the luck
To meet bright people too.
I believed there could only be truth,
In absence of which there is a lie.
But the world isn't black and white,
White itself is of several colors
That serves together.
So who was I to question
The ways of the world?
Words from different mouths
Different they sound,
And different answers they form.
A house of cards
We live in,
Too light to sustain,
And yet some remain for days.
A blow would end them
And yet we don't.
We could build a whole world of it
And someone might as well try.
We deal with a deck of cards he said.
There is this big flaw
You must have heard.
This rebellion of bumblebees
Who fought over physics to fly.
Are nature's laws that sustain us
A lie too?
We deal with an illusion they said.
One card by itself can be torn to bits,
But cards appear too strong
When they build a sturdy skeleton
On their own.
Which one is the illusion
-the one card that acts weak
Or those in a heap, strong?
On behalf of the bees flying,
Of people revived after death,
Or people who survived poison
Or saved by the devil,
I have to ask,
If everything is indeed an illusion?
What exactly are we dealing with?
Then he came with the most important question of all
For what shall
We do with the answers,
What good does a truth do?
I don't have enough answers
It seems only questions.
Maybe in them hides answers
But maybe it does not matter
After all.
What did you pick?
(Questions exist because
There are no answers
Yet?)
Four wise man commented on a piece I wrote,
Thus answering a question of mine,
This piece is because they decided to
Share their wisdom.
I thank PAGAN PAUL and
BEN NOAH SURI and
HARLEY HUCOF and
TEMPORAL FUGUE
For their version of truth,
Their questions
That led to a certain enlightenment
And a few more questions.
(The piece they commented on is Abstract Ideas)